


The Prince's New Clothes

by LadyGaGalion



Series: Tales of Rebellion [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: hobbit_kink, Dirty Talk, Father/Son Incest, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Public Nudity, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGaGalion/pseuds/LadyGaGalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a delegation arrives in Mirkwood, Thranduil goes to great lengths to show off his wealth and power. Legolas adds a bit of scandal to the mix.</p><p>*This fic is a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4153800">Bloom</a>, but it can be read on its own as well.</p><p>**OMG you anon(s) with your amazing rebellious!Legolas prompts. It's a series now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prince's New Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following [Hobbit Kink](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com) prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Thranduil likes fancy clothes , Legolas does not. When a foreign delegation arrives in Mirkwood Thranduil wants to show off the wealth of his kingdom and Legolas is expected to wear ridiculously luxurious garments and jewels. Legolas indulges his father at least partly, he shows up at the party wearing only the jewels. Thranduil finds a very special way to punish his son : he surreptitiously arouses Legolas and forbids him to take his leave. let you decide if after the party legolas will have his revenge or if he will be further punished ;)_
> 
> Also, I'm on Tumblr now. I'm [OohLaGalion](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/oohlagalion) on there as well, if you like Elves and/or Loki and want to follow.

Legolas stopped before the entrance to the great hall and took a deep breath. A welcoming feast was being held for the delegation that had arrived from Imladris – an event intended to demonstrate the Woodland King's wealth and influence – and he was about to cause a scandalous interruption in the revelries. Indeed, he was going to make a spectacle of himself.

Legolas had done such a thing on a number of occasions in the past, but never on so grand a scale. His father was going to be furious. But if he had worn the ostentatious attire Thranduil had ordered to be tailored for him, _he_ would be angry. This was a compromise. They'd both be angry, but later on they would have dirty, mind-blowing sex. Legolas was looking forward to that part.

He had, however, worn all of the jewellery that Thranduil had picked out for him. Around his neck was a gold torc crafted in the likeness of twisted vines and ivy leaves that grazed his collarbones. A matching circlet adorned his head, and woven into his braids with fine gold pins were dozens of tiny diamonds. The gems glittered and flashed with brilliant fire whenever he moved.

He was wearing rings as well – large, heavy things that felt tight and cumbersome on his fingers. He hated them, didn't want to be seen wearing them, but consoled himself by imagining that later he would run his bejewelled hands all over Thranduil's body. The emeralds and moonstones would look lovely against those pale, muscular thighs.

Stepping into the room, Legolas smirked at the sight of his portrait hanging on the wall to the left – a reminder that there had once been a time when he'd believed Thranduil's assurances that his disobedience would never again lead to sex. But Legolas was thoroughly familiar with his father's weaknesses, and he knew how to exploit them. Over time it had become clear that he was an expert in the art of rebellion: It always led to sex.

Legolas spotted Nídhon, the artist who had painted the portrait, sitting not far from his work. The dark-haired Elf looked up in Legolas' direction just as he was taking a sip of wine; in his surprise he spat the burgundy liquid back into his goblet. He didn't look back up.

Thranduil sat at a long table at the far end of the hall, engaged in conversation with Lord Elrond's chief counsellor, Erestor. Legolas kept his eyes on the former as he walked past the raised round platform in the centre of the room, where a trio of musicians sat playing their instruments. Perhaps it was the sudden wavering of the music that prompted the king to look up. Upon seeing Legolas, his eyes grew to the size of silver coins. He blanched.

The noise in the hall died down as more and more people noticed Legolas' lack of clothing. Gasps and fervent whispers could be heard from every direction as Legolas strode confidently towards the king's table. He stopped behind his seat next to Thranduil. "Please forgive my tardiness," he said in a feigned remorseful tone. "It is inexcusable."

"As is your nudity," Thranduil replied harshly, though Legolas noticed his upper lip give a twitch, as it often did when he was faced with something he greatly desired. "Return to your quarters at once and put on some proper attire. This is no way to entertain our honoured guests."

"I am not nude." Legolas smiled sweetly. "These clothes are enchanted. Only those who are pure of thought can see them… Shame on you, Adar."

There was dead silence in the hall. The sounds of harp and flute had ceased entirely. Thranduil scowled at Legolas whilst Lord Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, watched the exchange with keen interest. All the other guests seated at the table were staring intently at their plates or into their goblets.

After a moment, Thranduil spoke. "It is clear that you have come here with the intention of being tonight's entertainment." His eyes darkened as they bore into Legolas'. "As such, I propose that we dismiss our musicians, as well as the minstrel who was to entertain us after dinner, and allow you to take the stage for the rest of the evening."

Legolas felt the blood drain from his face as Thranduil signalled to his guards, who promptly stepped forwards and surrounded him. He had not foreseen such a turn of events.

"And Legolas," Thranduil called out as he was ushered to the platform in the centre of the room. "Be sure to turn, ever-so-slowly, so that all who are present tonight might fully absorb your splendour!"

Despite his embarrassment at being put on full display, Legolas had to resist the urge to smirk. His father would not be able resist looking at him – and the longer he looked, the brighter the flame of his desire would grow. It was very possible that by the time Anor rose again, Legolas would have received the fucking of his life.

↣♥↢

As the night wore on, the guests slowly began to abandon the hall. Some would gather outdoors to sing and dance beneath the night sky; others would return to their homes, high in the trees, or to their quarters within the king's palace. Yet the majority still remained when Legolas' torment began.

A long, slender finger began to trace the rim of the king's goblet. Its touch was light and sensuous, its movement tantalizingly slow. Legolas swallowed hard as he turned a little more, finally losing sight of the king. That finger occupied his mind for many minutes, until at last he had revolved enough to be able to see the object of his desire again. 

Now Thranduil was bringing his fingertips to his lips, one by one, sucking off what Legolas could only guess was the honey residue from a pastry he'd eaten. He appeared to be so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't notice he was being watched. But Legolas knew better. Thranduil was using his own game against him – and it was working. Legolas was getting turned on.

As shameless as his behaviour that evening had been, he was mortified by the thought of becoming aroused for all to see. He closed his eyes to his father's lascivious performance and steadied his breath. _Think of spiders and Orcs_ , he told himself.

Yet whilst he was busy attempting to conjure images of vile creatures in his mind, someone must have engaged Thranduil in conversation, for the king's laughter suddenly rang across the hall. But it wasn't the soft, steady laugh he sometimes allowed himself in public; this was a warm, hearty sound that came from deep within his belly – a laugh he usually reserved for his beloved alone. It caused the blood to pool in Legolas' groin, making him groan silently.

When Legolas opened his eyes again, he saw that that wasn't the end of his troubles. Elladan had just approached the platform on which he stood. As he stopped at the base of the steps, every movement of body and every shift in his expression spoke of mischief. He looked stunning his green and silver regalia. Legolas had forgot how handsome Lord Elrond's sons were. Their beauty nearly rivalled Thranduil's. 

Elladan stepped one foot onto the bottom stair, revealing exquisite boots that made Legolas weak in the knees, and looked up at him with a devious smirk. When he spoke, his voice was like melting butter. 

"I am very impure of thought," he said, alluding to Legolas' earlier quip about the enchanted clothing. Light grey eyes trailed slowly down Legolas' body. They stopped at his crotch to appraise his jutting erection. Elladan's lips twitched before he met Legolas' gaze again and added, "So is my brother." 

Before Legolas could come up with a response, Elladan turned on his heel and headed for the doors, leaving the not-so-subtle suggestion to linger in his wake. Had Legolas not already been involved with the one Elf he loved most, he would have been eager to pursue the matter further.

Legolas suddenly became aware of the burn of his father's eyes on his back. Oddly, the brief exchange with the other prince caused his embarrassment to dissipate; he could not wait until he turned enough to give Thranduil an eyeful of his arousal. He had to resist the urge to smirk as the guests tried to view him inconspicuously through their lashes or from the corners of their eyes. 

When at last he turned enough to see his father's reaction, Thranduil's gaze was fixed upon him as if he were a treasure chest –unlocked and unguarded, ready for looting. Beside him stood Galion, the butler, holding a flagon of red wine. He had started to refill the king's goblet, but he was no longer paying any heed to the pouring liquid. His eyes were instead trained on Legolas, his mouth slowly falling open in awe. 

The goblet overflowed. Wine splashed everywhere – onto the table, onto Galion's robes and, most grievously of all, onto Thranduil's brocade sleeve. 

Galion recovered quickly. Legolas couldn't hear his words, but it was clear he was sputtering apologies as he began to wipe up the mess.

"Begone with you!" Thranduil shouted. His scowl alone would have made even the bravest of warriors quake.

Legolas felt his heart clench a little as Galion hurried out of the hall with his head lowered. He hadn't intended for his actions that evening to cause anyone but his father any real distress. 

Thranduil remained at the table for a few more minutes before excusing himself. He didn't spare Legolas a glance as he passed by him on his way out of the hall, shimmery white and gold robes swishing about his legs as he moved. His desire, angry and dark, was palpable. 

Legolas suppressed a grin. His pulse quickened. With the king and his guards gone, there was no more reason for him to remain on the stage, nor was there anyone to stop him from taking his leave. He only hoped that Thranduil wouldn't bar him entrance to his chambers, but based on what he knew from past experience, that was unlikely. 

He took his time as he strode naked down the halls and corridors of the palace. As difficult as it was to move so slowly whilst anticipating what was to come, he wanted to give Thranduil some time to simmer. The more impatient Thranduil became, the sweeter Legolas' reward would be. That much was certain.

As he'd expected, Legolas found the doors to the king's quarters unguarded upon his arrival. What he had not anticipated, however, was being pinched by the tip of the ear immediately upon entering. 

"Ahh!" Legolas yelped.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had lost your way," Thranduil snarled as he began to drag him to the bedchamber by the ear. When they got there he bent Legolas over the side of the bed and pressed his head firmly into the mattress. Fingertips slid teasingly up the inside of his thigh until they delved in between his buttocks. "This is what you wanted, is it not?"

"Aye, Ada!" was Legolas immediate reply. He bucked his hips, eager to impale himself on the fingers.

"Do you realise how much trouble you have caused tonight, ion nín?" There was a suckling sound as Thranduil wet his fingers in his mouth before pushing one of them inside Legolas' arse. "Those two miscreants from Imladris will not cease trying to get in your breeches for the remainder of their stay."

Legolas' eyes rolled back in his head as Thranduil found that delightful spot inside him. "We _could_ invite them to join us…"

Thranduil ignored him. "Nídhon is probably locked up in his workroom as we speak, wasting his talent on a painting no one but he himself will ever see."

Even as he rocked back on Thranduil's hand, Legolas cringed at the thought of a nude painting of his likeness hanging on Nídhon's wall.

"And Galion will be parting with a month's worth of wages to replace my soiled robes. How do you feel about that?"

"Leave him – " Legolas gasped as another finger slipped inside him. " – out of this. I will…cover the expenses." A gold ring pushed painfully against his sphincter with each movement of Thranduil's hand.

Thranduil chuckled as he continued to finger fuck him. "You have always had a big heart."

A moment later the fingers withdrew. Trying to get as good a view as possible with his head still held firmly against the mattress, Legolas just barely saw Thranduil release a glob of spit into his palm; the hand then dropped out of sight as Thranduil coated his cock with the saliva. The wet sound that resulted made Legolas' cock twitch in anticipation. 

"And what do you think the captain will be picturing next time you're giving him orders?" Thranduil asked, amused.

"Nothing he has not seen before."

Thranduil froze, and in the few seconds that passed in silence, Legolas grinned. He loved it when his father was jealous. 

"Has he done _this_?" Thranduil hissed.

Suddenly, the hand that had been holding Legolas down the entire time let go. Thranduil grabbed a fistful of his hair instead, glittering braid and all, and yanked his head back as he simultaneously thrust forward, burying his cock in Legolas in a single, sharp thrust. The resulting burn felt incredible. Legolas wanted more.

" _Has he_?" Thranduil demanded.

"Nay," said Legolas. "But he took it with as much enthusiasm as you will when I fuck you."

Thranduil laughed heartily. "Assuming that one day you'll let me keep my cock out of your arse long enough for you to reciprocate."

He had a point, Legolas had to admit. It was hard to resist an opportunity to be stuffed full of that thick cock and ridden like a beast. "Ada, please," he said, bucking his hips in desperation.

Thranduil pulled his head back even further, hissing in his ear as he began to fuck him. "'Ada,' you call me. 'Melethron.' ' _Thranduil_.' But who commands you? Who has the ultimate authority over this body?" He smacked Legolas' arse for emphasis. 

_Adar nín. Melethron nín. Thranduil_ , Legolas thought, but in the interest of humouring his beloved he gave the answer that held the least truth: "Aran nín."

Thranduil rewarded him with a particularly deep and forceful thrust. "I see there is hope for you yet."

"Aye, there is," Legolas agreed, rolling his hips wantonly. The pull of Thranduil's hand on his hair was so hard he feared his neck might snap, but that only made their fucking seem more primal and exhilarating. "I am yours to stick your cock in whenever and wherever you desire... You should have done it at the feast…taken me in front of all those people and then come all over me…"

Thranduil moaned and began to pound into him faster. He was hitting Legolas' prostate on each thrust. Legolas clenched the sheets as he tried to suppress his orgasm for at least another minute. 

"Or would you have preferred to make me kneel in front of you so you could fuck my mouth?" Legoals felt his balls tighten at his own words. "Do you think our guests would have been impressed to see me take your entire length down my throat, again and again, pausing only long enough to gasp for air?"

Without warning, Thranduil pulled out and flipped Legolas over onto his back. Then he closed his fist around his own cock and began pumping it frantically. Legolas copied the action, propping himself up on one elbow so he could watch.

Every muscle in Thranduil's body grew taut. "Legolas," he gasped breathlessly, and seconds later his cock began to spurt. Legolas came the moment Thranduil's first shot landed on his belly, slick and hot. The copious loads from both of their releases mingling on his bare skin was one of the most erotic things he'd ever experienced.

Legolas' eyes eventually fell closed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him, so he was startled when he felt a mouth pressing gently against his own. He parted his lips, allowing Thranduil's tongue to slip inside. It was a slow, adoring kiss, but it ended all too quickly for they were still overcome with the strength of their respective orgasms. 

Thranduil looked down at Legolas' come-splattered, glistening torso and grinned. "You are the very picture of debauchery. I will enjoy you again before the night is over."

Legolas returned the smile, his chest filling with warmth. "I suspect the night is already over, aran nín, but you may enjoy me as many times as you wish – today, tomorrow, and every day thereafter."

Thranduil leaned in to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Sindarin translations:
> 
> adar/ada - father/dad  
> ion nín - my son  
> melethron nín - my lover  
> aran nín - my king


End file.
